


MONSTER

by BananaNeko



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Drinking, Carnivorous Len, Character Death, Dubious Consent, Dungeon, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fantasy, Forests, Gore, Hallucinations, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Lakeside, Murder/Crime, My First Really Long Fic, Other, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, Unrequited Love, Work In Progress, Written by Fangirl, not much of a mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:31:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8297626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaNeko/pseuds/BananaNeko
Summary: In the city Miku lives, mysterious cases of gruesome suicides and disappearances of young women happen very often. They say it’s been happening for decades, but no one can seem to solve them.Meanwhile Nero, a police detective, has just been assigned to a recent murder case – the primary suspect of which appears to be none other than Miku. As he pursues the truth behind the murder, he’s drawn further and further into the world of dark, malicious fantasies that lurks in the forest, just beyond the city’s borders…





	1. Down the Drain (1.1)

**Author's Note:**

> Gee, what a long summary... ==
> 
> WARNING: Big load of fangirl BDSM ahead! NOT recommended for people with traumatic past relationships, quirks with non-con, BDSM, gore, cannibalism, imprisonment, etc., etc., basically an abnormally male-centric relationship.
> 
> Rated M for Monster.
> 
> Also this is going to be quite a long charade… So I’ll probably only be continuing this after I finish other fics I’m working on. :3 Just couldn't resist posting this chappie, hehe.

Before she’d met Len, her life had been anything but _right_.

Her destiny, as her parents decreed, had been to become an engineer. She’d hated it with all her nerve and dreamed of becoming a painter. A _useless, brainless, money-spending_ painter. For what use would she waste her life and all that money, they scoffed, and she’d hated them. She’d once been filled with rebellion. Still her “destiny” had forced her down her destined path, and she’d ended up an engineering graduate. The future had been a daunting prospect. She’d hated herself.

Her life had brought her nothing, allowed her no joy, and she didn’t care about it. Sometimes, she even thought that if she lost it – all of a sudden one day – everyone might care more about her. Because no one said anything bad about a dead acquaintance, no matter how notorious they had been alive. They were remembered only for their smiles, for what they did best…

Even… even if she’d just stabbed her old classmate to death.

Miku stared at the sight in front of her, unable to accept the fact. _Dead_ – Yuki-chan, the bossy class prefect, the happiest girl in high school, the pretty girl everyone loved – _dead_ , still quivering on the ground, bleeding out a ton of her Yuki-smelling blood until the asphalt was all wet and bloody in a giant metre-radius splodge, the knife sticking gruesomely out of her chest.

It had gone in like cutting into soft cheese. 

Just a freak thought, that had strolled out into the light from the whirling cloud of anger and frustration and jealousy in her head. Her arm drove forward of its own accord and - straight – it had slid in between her ribs, smoothly. That thin, _delicate_ ribbon of metal cutting in so unimaginably _deep_ , and there it stuck, sickly – right out through Yuki-chan’s frilled cardigan.

_She killed a human girl. Just like that._

No… no.

Miku’s mind was reeling.

That knife had nothing to do with her… She had never even seen it before in her life… She hadn’t!

Miku squeezed her eyes shut, crouching down in a foetal curl on the asphalt, where it was clean, feeling her feet pressing against the hard, dry roughness.

She must have fallen asleep, she told herself in desperation. She must be dreaming. This must be a nightmare. She’d fallen asleep on the bar counter, she’d just drank too much… Yuki-chan was sitting right next to her, where they’d been. They’d never left that bar. They’d never gotten into that stupid quarrel; her hands had never found that rusty knife there and plunged it into her friend. None of that had happened – She could just keep on living because _none of it had happened_. It couldn’t have happened!

Miku noticed herself trembling, and firmly forced herself to hold still. _It must have been a dream_ , her numb mind insisted. She just needed to calm down, and everything would just go away.

She was going to calmly tell her friend off for insulting her life; that her big priggish mouth was going to get her in serious, serious trouble one day; and then she’d stand up and leave. It wasn’t her who was going to accidentally kill Yuki-chan for her big mouth. – No, she didn’t do it. It could be someone else who did it.

Yes – yes, that was a comforting thought. Let someone else do it.

Miku’s desperate, pleading eyes, as they cracked open, were met by a dark, viscid frontier of blood. It slowly crept towards her, eating away at the grey asphalt as the pool of Yuki-chan’s blood spread, unstoppably, seeping out of the prostrate body. It was massive now, reaching towards her.

She couldn’t breathe.

She hadn’t cared about her own life, till now.

But not now. Not _now._ Not when she finally seemed to have found something worth facing that worthless life for. Not when she’d finally grasped the thinnest thread of hope – her faintest promise to happiness, fulfilment. After all these years being a failure, a loser, a worthless good-for-nothing with no aim in life, she’d finally found it. Found _him_. And now she’d ruined it, with her own two hands.

What would he say?

What would her parents say? What would her friends say? And Yuki-chan’s friends? What would they _all_ say?

Monster.

Behind her closed eyelids, their accusatory glares burned into her, making her eyelids fly open again in horror.

What had Yuki-chan ever done to deserve this?

Why had she done it?

 _Monster_ , her mind taunted. Her guilt reared its savage head and howled. Monster, MONSTER.

Inhuman, selfish monster.

Was ridding the world of Yuki-chan worth anything? Worth sacrificing her own happiness for? Worth living the rest of her life accused and shunned by her friends, her family, her world?

By Len?

 _Monster, monster_ echoed the alley, the dumpsters, the rusted rails – _monster_ , creaked the rotten crates, rasped the bags of trash, the bricks, the pavement, all in booming cacophony: _MONSTER_.

The pool of blood stretched its gleaming black fingers towards her feet, thickly, sinisterly.

With a wail of terror, Miku shoved the dead girl’s hideous white body away from herself, pleading for the nightmare to end – just end! Yuki-chan limply bounced away, ejecting gobs of blood from her wounds each time she hit the pavement, teetered – and before Miku could catch her, with a gasp – dropped into the mud-filled gutter with a heavy thud, putrid black grease spattering her blush-powdered cheeks.

A bloody trail of ripped tissue lay glistening on the pavement.

Miku violently threw up. She couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t look at it.

No, NO…!

And she ran. She didn’t even realise she’d stood up. She tore from the scene, sprinting down the streets as fast as her senseless feet could carry her, mindlessly, heart hammering in her throat as she simply ran and ran. As if kicking away the invisible hands threatening to trip her if she stopped, drag her back to that alley and swallow her – running from whatever was behind her. They were chasing her, the darkness – the eyes in the street, the lamps – that hideous limp body – those hands – those eyes, those _eyes_ – those eyes –

The journey was so, so long. The streets were too dark. Macabre demons lurked in every shadow, behind every garden wall, descending from the pylons slithering across the rooftops like grotesque, deformed, primeval apes - black, black, black. The darkness clung onto her skin with its ghostly, spidery fingers as she whipped past, whispering to her, contaminating her, creeping into her head.

_Come, come… don’t run away. Don’t run back home, it’s too obvious. Run somewhere else. Stay in the darkness where they’ll never find you. Hide… hide forever._

And there – suddenly ahead, a patch of dim light in the black forest. Even in the late hour. The familiar rows of mailboxes, as if waiting for her return. Miku ran into the shelter of her apartment lobby, gasping her lungs out in relief.

Almost home… almost home.

She frantically pounded on the button on the wall, pleading for the elevator to come – who could possibly be using it, at such a time in the night? Why wasn’t it coming?

She beat her palm against the wall, heart racing madly – Where was the elevator? She glanced behind her into the eerie darkness, sweat pouring down her temples.

There was no one there.

What if there was someone on the elevator?

She couldn’t bear it anymore. As fresh fear gripped her, Miku fled for the stairs, tearing up the steps, passing landing after maddening landing, legs screaming with exhaustion, stones filling her bleeding lungs, almost certain she was never going to reach her floor – until…

Somehow, there she was, pressed flat against the door of her apartment unit. Her depressing, lonely apartment unit. She wrenched the door open and threw herself in and slammed it shut behind her and locked it, locked it locked it – sealing herself in, madly yanking at it like it might just swing open if she let go the handle. Her hand slipped and she collapsed backwards into the doorstep in a shuddering heap, sobbing for breath, heaving.

She was finally, finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuki-chan's dead, so I didn't list her in the characters.


	2. Hysteria (1.2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some anachronistic ideas about hysteria... and the sort. People (a century or so back) basically believed the cause of hysteria was one's uterus taking a stroll around one's body.
> 
> Inform me if you ever encounter a woman who doesn't go hysteric from that.

When she slammed on the lights with fumbling, blood-stained fingers, there was her kitchen, her sofa with her laundry still on the backrest, her self-same, familiar room; her single bed, just as she’d left it. She switched on every single bulb there was in there, shrinking from the shadows in the corners – and finally sank down on the floor at the foot of the bed, safely in the circumference of the bright LED, eyes wide and shaken.

It was like any other day, any other night before another tomorrow – But no. Everything had changed now. After what she’d done, everything was changed. There _was_ no tomorrow. Not for her anyway.

Had she locked the door?

She’d checked it twice, bolted it, locked it. Nothing could come in through there.

What of the windows, what of the vent?

No… Oh no. She was covered in blood. She was still covered in blood. The reminder. The proof. The infection. Her clothes clotted with rusty smelly icing. She pinched the hem of her blouse with a shudder, feeling the coldness of the blood seep into her fingers like wet worms. She ripped the soggy fabric off her skin with a thin screech, hurling it across the room onto the floor. She stared at it with wild eyes. It landed in the dusty shadow, its bloody decoration hidden under its crumpled folds – Why, that had been her favourite shirt. What a waste.

Her naked skin underneath her clothes were clean, miraculously _clean_. She was untainted.

She collapsed into her bed, shuddering with nausea.

…

Sometimes in the past, she’d imagined what it would be like to kill.

She’d always pictured herself calmer, steadier, colder. Not this weak, torn, panic-stricken mess.

She could sense the blouse still there in the corner, the blood underneath it. She could sense Yuki-chan’s accusatory glare from the windows and the gap beneath the door; and the blood slowly, slowly diffusing out into the air she breathed in, tainting her room, infiltrating her lungs. Invisible, microscopic red globules floating in the air, covering her pillow, her blankets, her cupboard, her skin. Brilliant fresh red seeping out from the blouse. Staining the carpet and the shadows in the wallpaper. She could swear the air was turning redder… Faintly, but definitely.

Silence began to fill the room, like water in a tank.

Deadly, suffocating silence.

With a tormented scream, she leapt off the bed and ran out into the living room, wrenching the door of the bedroom shut, mutilating the unbearable silence with a thunderous bang. She crouched on the floor, ventilating like a terrified squirrel, bones rattling between her muscles.

 _Len_ …

Her pupils slowly dilated, the blue-green flecks inside them shot through with tendrils of blood.

_She had to call Len._

She tore through the room and lunged for the phone. Her bloodied fingers punched furiously at the buttons, crouched over the machine like a feral dog.

 _Rrrr_ … _rr_.

The monotonous purring of the speaker replayed itself, over and over until she lost count, maddeningly. Her hands trembled so badly she could hardly grip the slippery handset.

“Hello?”

She slid onto her knees with a gasp.

“Uh, hello…?”

‘L… Len – aah… Len –’

“Miku…? Is that you?”

‘L-Len, help me… I need you – I just need you…’ she burst out, all in one breath.

She could hear his tone change in an instant on the other side of the phone. ‘Miku!? What’s wrong?’

‘I need you. Len… please come. I want to see you,’ she croaked. ‘ _I need you_.’

“Where are you right now?”

‘H-Home – I’m _home_ …’

“Are you alone?”

‘Len, _hurry_ –’

“Alright… Alright. Of course I’ll come.” He sounded bewildered. “What happened? Will you be fine until I get there?”

‘No…!’ She wanted him _now_ , right here beside her. She didn’t want to stop hearing his voice. She couldn’t wait for him to come. She _needed_ him. She was terrified – she felt as if her mind was slipping away, as if she was going mad, as if – the walls were going to tear down and the shadows come crashing in like blood, _blood_ , drowning and burning and –

“I’ll be right there, yeah? Don’t worry, I’m coming.”

‘Don’t… don’t cut the line!’ she screamed. ‘Don’t. Please don’t leave me alone…!’

“ _What happened_ , Miku!?”

‘ _Nnngh_ –! Len – Len –’

“– Dammit, never mind! I’ll see you in… in four minutes, okay? Four minutes! I promise. You hang on till then – don’t do anything stupid. You just calm down, got that?” She heard his breaths skip as he ran. She nodded silently, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She fell mute, hyperventilating, staring around at the empty room, at the dark windows above her; imagining those dark, twisted shapes clinging onto the glass, silently reaching for the latches – with an imaginary _snick_ –

With a snarl she bashed her head against the side of the kitchen cabinet, trying to clear the horrible images from her head; _get out, get out, get out._ She was going to go mad. They weren’t real. They were driving her mad. She wrenched the cabinet open and stuck her head inside, afraid of the sudden darkness inside and afraid of the emptiness outside, tearing at the pots and pans, scattering them out with screaming clangs of metal to scramble into the safety of the cabinet, taking refuge in the faint warmth of wood, crouching like a tiny bitch. She slammed the door shut, taut eardrums prickling. Only her frightened eyes gleamed in the darkness.

She felt something, something outside her cabinet. Claws going _click, click_ on the floor, scales rasping. It wasn’t real – it was _there_ in her mind. Her ears could almost hear it. Her eyes could almost see its shadow passing the gap under the door. The plastic receiver creaked in her tight, possessive grip – ear pressed to the outlet for the sound of his breathing, the sound of his clothes rustling, his footsteps.

‘L…? Len…? Len –’

“Shh…shh. I’m right here. I’m coming.”

‘Len, please… _please hurry_ …’

“Two more minutes. You hold on two minutes, you hear me?” he growled through the speaker.

 _Two minutes_ …

Len.

All of a sudden, she felt ludicrously self-conscious. He’d be here to see her in two minutes. He’d see her like this. She might touch him.

Not with these hands. She couldn’t touch him like this.

With a sudden pulse of courage that didn’t feel like her own, she burst out of the cabinet and tore to the bathroom, wrenching at the tap, scrubbing furiously at her face. She didn’t know what she was doing. She _had_ to wash; the plain command ringing through her head was an absolute.

Again, again. She mauled at her blood-stained cheeks, scraping at her hands with frantic fingernails. Why weren’t they coming off? Why – why was the blood still there!? They were _under_ her skin. They were inside, stealing into her body, seeping _in_. She gouged at her skin, gasping, clawing in horror. The blood – it was coming out – it was _spreading, growing_ –

‘No… no – no!’ she choked.

“Miku! Hey – stay with me. Stay with me, okay!? Stop it – whatever you’re doing!”

‘Aaah – Len…!’

“Shhh. Shh… sshh. Miku… I’m here. I’m right here. It’s alright!”

_He was there. It was alright._

Len was there.

Len was coming.

As she stared at her own terrible reflection in the mirror, chest heaving, gradually the blood drained from her scratch-covered face.

Her mind, all too suddenly, was as clear as a razor. In a numb, frenetic way. Her thoughts were like the digital graphs laid out on a slab of glass, like in those sci-fi movies, flashing at the speed of a cold, calculating machine.

…

Why had she called him?

She would have to tell him now. She would have to explain why she was this way. She would have to tell him what she’d done. She would have to face his accusations, his horror, his disgust.

No. Anything but that!

Her hands gripped the edge of the sink so hard that her knuckles turned white, shaking with force. Her knees trembled and every muscle in her body went numb with dread.

What if, _what if_ …

What if she’d found Yuki-chan dead? She’d been walking in the alley… She’d come out of the bar and seen the body – no, that was too dangerous. The bartender would remember seeing her with Yuki.

Maybe she’d just been walking. She’d never been to that bar. She saw something in the drain… a hand… a pool of blood… and she’d gone to see, just in case…

Then why didn’t she call the police?

She was too scared. She panicked. She’d convince him somehow. She’d convince him to help her talk to the police, help her convince them she hadn’t done anything. She’d… she’d convince them all somehow. All for love. So they could live together, so Len would smile at her again and continue believing in her and love her always and they could feel safe like it never happened, and yes maybe, they could have a baby in a lovely little home somewhere…

She was innocent. She’d just been walking there, alone…

Then why had she been in that alley in the first place?

 _Think, think_ … She had to think of something! What if she’d been taken there – by a group of… criminals – no, gangsters - thugs - what if she’d left the bar with Yuki-chan and been caught by them and – Yes, yes, She was traumatised, that was why –

As if to cut her thoughts, the terrible sound of the doorbell rang through the house. Like the shriek of a falling guillotine, sharp and loud, making her flinch horribly. Wrenching her heart back to reality. She impulsively bolted out of the bathroom, slamming the door – to the doorstep – and jerked to a stop.

‘…’

He was here, outside the door.

She stared at the door handle, unable to open it. But she knew she had to.

There, outside, was her only hope.

But how could she face him?

 


	3. Len (1.3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it's been a while... Hope I still got my noodles xP  
> Here comes Part 3 of Chapter 1 after nine months~

‘Miku?’

She froze as she heard his muffled voice.

There, outside… was her relief. Her sanity. Her breath of air.

‘Miku! Are you in there!?’

…

The door opened with a click, hesitantly, cautiously – and there… His beautiful blue eyes. His worried, sweet face. A piece of ordinariness, her mundane life staring back at her, pushing her dreadful nightmare into the past. He was the present. He was _real_.

‘Len…!’

She hurled herself into him on the doorstep. He raised a startled cry.

‘Miku!?’

Suddenly she knew, with a solid, soul-deep conviction that she wasn’t going to be able to lie to him with a straight face. He’d see through it like water. She couldn’t _lie to him_.

‘Oh my gosh, Len… Len – thank heaven…’ she gasped, clinging onto him with arms, legs, heart, everything. He was here – he was right here. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Suddenly, the darkness was so much less intimidating. The walls were quiet; the floor was still. Those creatures – those shapes –

Gone.

She suddenly couldn’t stay on her feet; she slid down his chest as her body went slack, pooling at his knees in a sobbing mass. Len peered cautiously about her empty apartment behind her, at the pots and pans scattered all over the kitchen floor, frowning.

‘By god. What on earth happened here, Miku? You’re naked…’

‘ _Len_ … Len, Len I’m sorry – _I’m sorry_ …’

‘Miku…? What happened?’

‘I didn’t mean it – Len you have to believe me, _I didn’t_ – I don’t know what I was thinking –’

He carefully extricated his legs from her clutch, kneeling down to hug the trembling mess that was her. ‘Shh…sh.’

Miku let out a garbled choke. ‘ _You have to believe me_ …!’

‘It’s alright… Relax. I believe you.’

‘Y- You do…?’ She stared into his eyes, blur with the tears in her vision.

He blinked. ‘I believe you,’ he repeated slowly.

She stared.

There was a strange quality about the blue in his eyes – like the sea far, far away, somewhere at the end of the world’s ocean – that enveloped her in this strange, surreal feeling that all the things happening to her might just be a dream; that it was alright to let them fade away into idle forgetfulness and simply continue to stare into his eyes, filling her mind with only the things that made her happy –

‘Let’s just get you some clothes, okay Miku?’ he said. ‘You can tell me what happened if you want to later.’

Later… yes, later. She nodded vacantly.

Why not later? He didn’t need to know right away. She could listen to that voice a little longer. She wanted that sweet, velvety voice to keep calling her name – with that reassuring lilt of affection that was bound to disappear once she told him. Wouldn’t it?

He led her into the house, grunting a little under her weight while she hung onto him like a helpless sandbag. ‘Come on, I think you need to rest. Slowly now – steady there.’

She suddenly tensed as she realised he was taking her towards the closed door of her bedroom. ‘N-No… No –’ She pulled back with all her weight, shaking her head in little jerks.

Her blouse was still in there! He’d see it. He’d find out.

‘Heyy. Calm down. It’s alright Miku… What’s in there?’

‘No, please no…’ she whimpered.

He kissed her tear-stained face, combing away the matted strands of sea-green clinging to her sweaty forehead. His fingers felt warm on her clammy skin. ‘Shhh… hush, Miku… It’s alright,’ he murmured as she whimpered softly again.

His heat seeped into her shivering frame.

‘Is there something in there?’ he asked gently.

She shook her head.

‘Then…?’

‘Len… Len, kiss me –’

He started. ‘…?’

Her arms swiftly coiled around his neck, forcing him into a kiss. ‘Please don’t look,’ she blurted – pulling him backward into the sofa. ‘Never mind the clothes!’

‘Miku – ?’

She tugged his coat off his shoulders, pulling him down with both arms and legs. ‘Just stay here. Don’t go in there – please.’ She pushed her lips to his again before he could reply, reaching for his shirt. Her hands slid lower down his back; swaying his hips against hers, grabbing for his attention. A shudder of electricity coursed through her as she touched skin. She gasped softly. ‘ _Take me…_ ’

 

* * *

 

‘Are you sure you’re alright, Miku?’

Nestled beside him on the sofa, she nodded mutely.

After a moment as if thinking, Len languidly continued to thumb her slender fingers, admiring them with a small smile that made the corners of his lips curl up, almost like a cat. ‘Mm. What lovely fingers you have…’

She watched as he kissed them, unable to say a word. She couldn’t move. That hand – she still remembered it like moments ago, stained a dark, ugly red with warm human blood.

He parted his teeth, tongue snaking out, dragging it all the way up her middle finger to the nail, covetously. To that tip of her nail where the blood had been clotted, the tiny lumps of gouged flesh stuck in between. Now, it was clean – but Miku could still feel it there, even if it wasn’t visible.

His tongue flicked over that spot, making her shudder.

He almost seemed puzzled why she wasn’t reacting.

‘Mmmm.’ He licked his lips with an innocent, mischievous grin, trying to coax a smile out of her; and continued on to her other fingers, nipping erotically at her fingertips and down the length of her hand. Trailing warm moisture on her now-clean fingers, dotingly, unknowingly. Reaching the flat of her palm, he lapped at her skin as if licking the glue off a postage stamp, until she almost thought he was scraping at the hidden traces of blood left in the creases –

She suddenly felt like throwing up. She snatched her hand away with a cry.

He looked up, startled. ‘Miku?’

‘Don’t! It- it hurts,’ she mumbled guiltily at her knees. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Oh... I’m sorry.’

He sat watching her, waiting for her to say something.

‘Len… don’t you hate me?’ she asked softly. ‘Aren’t you afraid of me?’

He paused slightly. ‘Why would I hate you? You haven’t done anything wrong.’

‘…’

‘…You haven’t, right?’

‘What if… what if I have?’

‘Look.’ He let go of her hand and hugged her closer. ‘I don’t know what you’re so scared of, but I love you – no matter how much you hate yourself for whatever you did. I’ve been with you. Even if you make mistakes… I’m sure you had a good reason for it.’

She buried her face in his shoulder. ‘I… I hope so too…’

He sighed, and murmured, ‘You did’ – and said it with so much conviction that she almost believed it.

‘Len…?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Can’t you take me back to your house? Can’t I stay there – with you?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Why all of a sudden?’

‘I… I want to stay with you.’

‘Of course Miku. Anything you want.’ He gently stroked her hair. ‘We can go now, or tomorrow morning, or we can go anytime you want.’

‘…’

She sighed softly in pleasure, reluctant to even open her mouth. She didn’t want to move…

He laughed. ‘Tomorrow it is.’

‘I don’t ever want to leave. I want to stay there… forever.’

His eyes glittered in the darkness above her as he stared at the back of her head, stroking her languidly.

‘Of course, Miku… If you want to.’

She nodded in satisfaction.

His mansion was such a surreal place. It stood alone in a deep forest away from town and human settlement, so far away from the rest of the world, so otherworldly. She felt as if she could run from her life into another place, into that forest – she felt as if she would be allowed to forget everything there. As if she could stay in that mansion away from reality… forever. Safe and sound, with Len. Just Len.

He stroked her hair again slowly. ‘What are you trying to run from?’

She stiffened.

‘L-Len, what do you mean? I didn’t say –’

‘Shhh… Quiet.’

He stopped, and dragged himself up, sliding along her length till his shoulder came level with her head. ‘I’ve known you for a while, Miku…’ He lazily twirled a lock of her hair on his finger, admiring it in the moonlight. ‘You can act quite absurd sometimes. And you’re such a horrible liar – you can never make up your mind.’

Her heart was beginning to pound sickeningly inside her ribs. A thin sheen of sweat gradually formed along the nape of her neck as she licked her lips. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about…’

He laughed. ‘You know, Miku? The smell of blood doesn’t wash off with water.’

‘W-What blood…’

He pinned her down on her face, settling heavily on the small of her back. She tried to push him away – but it was as if all the muscles in her body had turned to stone, and she could barely move. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure he could feel it through his fingers on her back. Something was awfully wrong. This wasn’t Len.

‘Stop it you’re scaring me –’

‘Honestly… I was trying not to laugh. You just did the worst thing you apparently think you can ever do – and your reaction to that is being _scared_? What are you afraid of? Or are you still trying to convince yourself you’re innocent?’

Miku shuddered.

He snorted, sounding almost bored. ‘So what if you killed her, Miku?’

 ‘…!?’

‘You just doomed yourself to the miserable remainder of your short life – it isn’t really anyone’s problem. No one cares, Miku.’

She couldn’t see what sort of expression he wore, above her.

‘When the sun rises in a few hours’ time… When those smelly homeless scum start crawling out of their cardboard boxes – they’re going to find it, aren’t they? There’s going to be a big commotion out on the main street. The police will come. They’ll check every security camera in the area and ask – who did the victim meet last night at the bar? Whose fingerprints are those all over her throat? Who stabbed her and threw her body in the drain and then ran home and slept with her boyfriend?’

Her face had turned deathly pale: _How did he know?_

Len nuzzled the nape of her neck, breaths skimming across her hypersensitive skin, causing a shudder to rack through her body.

‘Or did you hide it?’ he whispered against her taut eardrum.

‘N-No…’ she gasped.

‘Did you burn it then? My, right in the middle of metropolis…’ A contemptuous snort, as if the idea was amusing to him. His fingers kneaded her wrist, gripping her bone in an iron clasp. ‘…Or what, did you eat it?’

‘ _No_!’

She felt the pair of shoulders pressed against her back shrug, almost carelessly. ‘That’s sealed, then.’ He dragged his long tongue along the length of her neck, lazily.

If he noticed her trembling so hard she might have shattered like glass – he didn’t appear to care. He kissed the back of her head. Like the fall of a leaden hammer, pronouncing her verdict. ‘Enjoy your last day, girl. Whether you like it or not, it’s your own fault.’

Miku stiffened, her sharp gasps muffled in the cushions as he voiced it mercilessly: someone other than her own wicked mind; _Len_ , her beloved Len, turning it to solid reality. The massive weight of it finally came crashing down on her – she felt like she was suffocating, like it was crushing the air out of her lungs.

Slowly, his arms wrapped around her naked form, like the cool night air on her smooth skin – ensnaring her in a tight, serpentine embrace.

‘…kill me… _please_ –’ she choked. ‘ _Don’t let me face them_ –’

His luminous blue eyes were like floating orbs in the shadow. The moon shone on one side of his face, cold and white – hanging like a wide grin in the empty sky outside the window; all silent save for her soft sobs of agony, which echoed on and on in the unlit living room.

By the time the sun rose, no one would care. When the sun rose tomorrow, she would be nothing but a faceless murderer who’d destroyed the life of an innocent girl; without a heart, without friends, without a life of her own. A monster.

And there he was again – with her in the horrid depths of her terror. Gently stroking her wild hair with a relaxed smile, fingers massaging her prickling scalp; slowly easing her racing breaths, complacently working his way towards the corners of her quivering, bloodshot eyeballs. ‘Close your eyes… There’s nothing you can do about it.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONCE AGAIN:  
> This story is only recommended for very staunch (or rather, masochistic) Len fangirls who can tolerate a crapload of socially unacceptable behaviour from him and all the torment and misery he brings to the defenceless side-characters in this story. He’s just super self-centred by nature.
> 
> So here it is, and I just hope someone enjoys this piece of shit.


	4. Len (2.1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "real" Len arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I can clear the confusion in coming chapters; motivation's rather low, but I'll try my best to continue x_x) Thanks so much for the supportive comments! I was really grateful reading them! xoxo

He’d sat there for a short eternity staring at her beautiful remains.

What beautiful hair she had. Sea-green, like a mermaid. Reminiscent of the distant shores from a past age, far away from the filth humans called civilisation. Spread across the carpet, tangled.

And there he sat next to her body, holding her heart.

Her heart shone so beautifully in the moonlight as it squatted sedately in the cave of his cupped hands, trembling; bleeding velvet petals of red, red blood. It was warm and pungent and so recently _alive_ he almost wondered if she’d come back to life if he put it back inside her.

He stretched his jaws wide, and allowed her to slowly slither down his throat – smearing trails of rich tang along the length of his long tongue, fresh and hot. The smell of her filled his lungs, thick as mutton soup. His thin neck convulsed; her soft, muscular fruit pressed up against his gullet, still quivering, still wanting him, seemingly still unaware of its current preposterous situation. His face cracked into a slow, self-disgusted smile as it sluggishly moved down along his sternum, and the queerly unpleasant feeling gradually sank away into his freak digestive system.

A sickening, lead-like weight settled in the pit of his stomach.

A vein pulsed in his wrist; his skin acquired a faint, unearthly glow; the thick silk bangs hanging across his forehead came to life, gently curling into themselves like feathery ferns, flaunting their glossy sheen. He stretched his shoulder blades languidly, sinews rippling, and shook his golden locks free.

His golden locks they so liked to run their fingers through.

They whispered like the leaves on a silent night, hissing, snaking along his shoulders.

It might have been a dreadful fetish, or something the likes; but it was more of a vital necessity.

Len licked his gore-smeared fingers, rasping the tip of his tongue at the bits of her ripped flesh stuck in his manicured nails. And then he laughed. Laughed at himself. What a sight he must be right now. Naked, bloody, and spattered with blackened gore, crouched over a dead human girl. Like some pitiful mad monster from a fantasy fiction.

His frame shuddered as he convulsed inwardly.

He just couldn’t get over that taste. The exquisite sensation of her warm flesh crammed, _squeezed_ into his throat; thick juice running into his stomach, tantalisingly; that repulsively succulent aftertaste that filled him thereafter. The aftertaste of her soft flesh –

Leaving nothing but the remainders of her sweet scent and her sweet, bitter memories.

_– Or what, did you eat it?_

…

With a sudden choking noise, he covered his mouth and gagged.

Her overpowering scent flooded back up his throat, up his nasal passage and flooded from beneath his eyeballs in heavy beads of hot, salty liquid, burning streams of wetness down his face and flooding onto the floor.

He hunched over; repeatedly, mechanically flexing his abdomen in swallowing motions, not letting out a sound. Only his ragged breaths of emotional agony, sucking in the sharp stench rising from the blood-soaked carpet around them.

_Funny…_

He’d thought he was done crying when he'd found her here. Rushed through the door – left ajar – only to find her, cold and unconscious in her own living room.

Crying - just like _they_ did. He’d never done that before. He never knew he could even do it.

 _Four minutes_ – he’d promised – just a mere four minutes.

But four minutes wasn’t fast enough.

She was gone – he’d sensed it the moment he saw her lifeless body on the sofa.

He thought he’d given her up for lost at that moment.

Funny that he couldn’t.

\---

Blood dripping from his lips, he turned back to stare at the body of the beautiful girl on the floor. Her pale skin still as water; stale life’s blood spreading from the gaping hole in her chest like thick, liquid darkness. ‘M…

‘Mik…u,’ he rasped.

Why hadn’t he realised sooner?


End file.
